


Awakening

by SnowyWalls



Category: Circus of the Damned, Cirque Des Damnes, Original Work
Genre: Conjoined Twins, Dark, Horror, Implied/Referenced Violence, One Shot, Short One Shot, Twins, mild body horror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:33:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25036291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnowyWalls/pseuds/SnowyWalls
Summary: This was my final project for my creative writing class, so I decided to write kind of a backstory thing for Rule and Tarot, some ocs from my Cirque des Damnes (Circus of the Damned) story. They're a pair of twins, conjoined at the knees for context. And like every dark circus story, they weren't born that way.
Kudos: 1





	Awakening

As I feel myself beginning to awaken, I can also feel the euphoric swirl of makeshift anesthesia beginning to fade and bring with it the always recognizable sharp, scratching pain as what remains of my body begins to wake up with me. I feel the harshness of the wooden floor against my bare skin, cold and stabbing crystalline daggers of ice into my flesh.

My body feels lighter, yet heavier at the same time. It is as if something has been taken away by some unknown assailant, and in an attempt to compensate for what had been stolen, they had replaced it with something similar. Similar, but not the same.

Finally, I open my eyes, hoping to see the bedroom I had been sleeping in for years. I pray that this dark turn of events has been nothing but a bad dream. Sadly, my wishes do not come true as I scan my surroundings with blurred vision. My mind has already feared the worst, and seeing the peeling striped wallpaper decorating the walls around me, it seems that my fears had come true. I know this place, but by all means I wished I didn’t.

The footsteps I had heard the night before in the woods had not been solely my imagination, I now realise, and I know for a fact now that I was not the only one to hear the faint whisper from that raspy, tired voice as it called to us. That’s right, there were two of us there, there were two of us to hear those three words that will forever live in infamy.

“Leaving so soon?”   
The words ran a chill throughout my entire body, and even now that chill still permeates along my skin. I still feel them hanging around me, although it has no doubt been hours or even days since those words were spoken. 

I take another moment to gaze around at my surroundings, and I realize that he is nowhere to be found. The companion I had at my side the moment I heard the voice speak, and always by my side long before then. He’s my brother, my mirror image. Panic rises within me as I realize we may have been separated. I whisper his name, my throat dry and words feeling like sandpaper against my tongue.

“Tarot?”  
My voice quavers as I speak, and I see a flash of movement out of the corner of my eye. I realize, however, that this movement does not belong to my beloved Tarot, for his voice sounds softly on the opposite side of me. I don’t know at this moment to be afraid or relieved. Relieved, for my brother truly is here with me! Afraid, though, because I now know that there is something else in this room with us.

I hope that the movement was only a mouse, or maybe a trick of my mind, for it has disappeared as quickly as it has come. Though still, at the back of my mind, the idea of it being someone else in here with us tries to worm its way to the front.

I snap out of my focus on the movement as I hear Tarot’s voice once again pierce the silence.

“Rule?” I hear him call out my name, voice raspy as mine yet still soft as always. It seems he’s only lying a few feet away from me, as through the darkness I can see his head of raven hair turn to face in my direction. Neither of us can truly see each other, but there is a true air of relief that we are still together even in these dire times. 

Though I can barely move with the weight of sleep, I manage to reach my arm out to him, placing my hand on his cheek. Feeling his warmth simply fills me with relief. This is no mirage, my brother truly is here with me. I have not been left alone. 

Though the light of the moon shining through the tightly sealed window beside us is dim, I can see his eyes reflecting it. Large and doe-like, like bright turquoise pools wet with tears. He was always the more sensitive of the two, but I doubt that I look any different at the moment. 

“What happened?” He asked me, voice wavering. “I remember we were running… did we not make it?”

I let out a quiet sigh in response. I shake my head. “He caught us. I’m sorry.”

The sound he let out next broke my heart. A quiet whine, not one of complaint or disappointment, but one of compliance. He wasn’t going to argue, and he wasn’t going to get angry. He knew that there was no turning back the moment we jumped from the window, and he knew that we had simply failed in our mission to escape. I rubbed his cheek with my thumb, catching a stray tear that had spilled over.

Then, Tarot shifted his position and I saw him wince. He let out a sharp breath, and I lifted my hand.

“Did he do something to us?” He asks, the sudden jolt of pain causing his voice to waver even more than it had previously. 

I find myself unable to answer. Tarot’s words linger in my mind as I remember the pain that I felt while waking up, the featherweight ton that I felt upon my legs.

My hand moves from its previous position. Slowly, it makes its way down my own body. My poking ribs, the curved line of my stomach, my hip, my thigh. Then finally, I feel the source of the pain both Tarot and I had felt. 

There was a slight indent at my knee. Touching it felt as if I was poking at my skin with a burning hot knife. I winced, continuing to feel around the area hidden by darkness and my stiff neck. I felt a thread. Thick and meant for skin, I found more and more the farther I felt around my knee. Stitches. But now, the question lingers. Just why had my flesh been stitched? I try to forget that I saw Tarot wince alongside me as I touched the wound and the stitches. 

The answer to my question is not far away. My hand is trembling, but I continue on past the stitches. My fingers meet flesh, yet I cannot feel it. I come to a realization, the answer hitting me hard and fast as my brother looks into my eyes and he speaks.

“Why are you touching me?”  
My mouth hangs open. I had presumed, though I didn’t want to believe it without true evidence. And without a doubt, it was that man that had done this to us.

We stare into each other’s eyes, shock and panic flooding our tired senses as we have come to the same realization. The desire to run again fills our body, but we know now that that would be impossible. This state we’ve been put in, it was a punishment. Because we ran, we never would again. We were stuck, now only to walk on the floor as if we were but a dog. I believe that I see tears spilling from my brother’s eyes once again, but I know that in truth, his face has been blurred by my own tears.

Suddenly, though, we freeze and our breathing stops as we hear a voice. That same voice we had heard when we tried to escape this home of despair, the voice of the man who has done this to us. It’s just as chilling as before. Just as unloving and unforgiving, filled with a sick sense of joy as his nocturnal eyes had watched us come to the realization of our physical state all on our own. He had been with us this whole time, hidden from view in the shadow of the workshop he knew far too well. In the room where the stench of iron permeated the air, a scent that he had grown accustomed to and learned to tune out.

That voice, that man, he mocks us.

“Do you like what I’ve done?”

We responded with nothing but silence. I wanted to shout, to curse him for what he’s done to us, but my throat felt tight. I couldn’t bring myself to make a sound. 

“I’d always wanted twins here.” I could hear the faint sound of socked feet shifting on the wooden floor. “But I never knew just what to do with you… funny how inspiration only strikes when you’re in a position to lose your most beloved work.” He began to laugh at a joke that didn’t exist. I couldn’t bring myself to partake in his morbid humor.

“Anyways, now that you’re awake, I’ll leave the door open for you.” I heard his footsteps move, and then the creak of a door opening to a hallway lit only by a few single candles. His footsteps began to follow the long corridor, his silhouette outlined grotesquely by the shadows around him. “Unless you want to starve in here, you’ll have to learn how to move around in your new… condition.”

I shivered as I heard his cackling disappear with his shadow around a corner of that long, darkened hallway.


End file.
